


PS I Love You Letters Only

by L1av, The_Nerd_Alert



Series: P.S I Love You [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Also we included 2 extra letters that did not make the final 1st chapter, Just the straight up text, M/M, With no formatting or pretty imaging, if you're struggling reading the letters, just the letters from the fic PS I Love You, look here and you'll see the letters without issue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 01:36:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4203000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L1av/pseuds/L1av, https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Nerd_Alert/pseuds/The_Nerd_Alert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The letters from PS I Love You with no special formatting or imaging. Two bonus letters (for those curious) have been included. If you struggle with reading the letters, please look here and you can read them easier!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The actual fic is here: [Click Me!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4195605/chapters/9477324)
> 
> These do not have the dates that the official letters have on them and these also may have spelling errors as only the final letters that were used in the fic were edited fully.

To: Sergeant James Barnes  
From: Steve Rogers

Hello, Sergeant Barnes,

I’m Steve. Currently an art major at NYU. I guess this is the part where I explain why I’m writing you? You signed up for a “penpal” (I kind of find that word weird) and I signed up to be your…penpal? I’ve wanted to serve my country since I was young but my asthma prevented me from being eligible so, I just gotta say that what you’re doing? I think it’s the bravest most honorable thing anyone could ever do.

So, now that that’s out of the way… I guess I tell you about myself? I’ve attached a picture, so you at least know what I look like. Figured a name and a face together would be a good thing? I seem to be questioning myself a lot on this. Hope that’s not weird. I just didn’t expect this to be as hard as it is. So, telling you about myself. I’m twenty-six years old. I got a bit of a late start when it came to going to college. Huge, huge movie-buff. I mean, they paired us up according to our interests and stuff, so maybe you’re into movies too? Cinema history is fascinating to me. I’m also a really big book worm. Catcher and the Rye is one of my favorites. Do you like books? I’m obviously a pretty big art fan. Love going to the art museum around here and just sketching for hours. Sometimes it’s pretty frustrating when I can’t get something right or I’m comparing myself to Da Vinci but, he’s Da Vinci. I’m just…Steve. Do you have plans to go to college after you get out? Were you in college already? Do you like museums? Sorry if I’m bombarding you with questions I just don’t really know what else to say right now? I feel like this whole letter is a big run-on sentence of me going, “Oh, sorry, I’ve really no idea how to be social to someone halfway across the world doing actual good for his country and I’m sitting here in a class room drawing naked people.” I mean, they’re fine naked people. Wait. Hold on.

So, maybe I should keep talking about myself? I don’t really know what else to say. It’s kind of hard having to describe yourself when you don’t really think you’re all that amazing. I’m a pretty descent artist though, at least, well, I’ll get a job. Probably an art teacher. I’m pretty patient. Maybe an elementary school or something. Man, can you imagine? I’d come home every day covered in paint from kids getting their hands all up in the finger paints or something. I could probably live with that. I’ve never been one for the corporate world. Kind of intimidating. Kids are better. Not to say they’re not intimidating. Kids can be cruel! But, well, maybe not so cut throat?

Anyway, I hope you’re safe over there. I’ve been seeing a lot on the news about the bombings. I hope this letter reaches you. Man that’d be awkward. Actually it’d be more awkward if you read it and never responded because I’ve been rambling like a fool. Oh, that’s pretty bad too.

You know what, I’ll talk to you soon? – Steve Rogers     

* * *

                              

 To:  Steve Rogers

From: Sergeant James B. Barnes

Dear Steve,

It's nice to meet you, even if it's over a letter. I actually didn't think colleges did penpal letters these days. I remember having signed up for something like that when I was in grade school, but it never really panned out. I got paired up with some kid from Jersey who played hockey and didn't do a damn thing else. Needless to say, we shared like two letters before that stopped in it's tracks. I actually remember when they started passing around the flyers for the penpal program. I thought I was gonna start getting some cute letters from grade schoolers. Imagine my surprise when I got your letter instead.

As for what I'm doing, it's... it's definitely not what the movies make it out to be. I'm honored you think what I'm doing is honorable, but a lot of it is sitting around a base, taking orders from sweaty old guys and running laps in the desert. But I love it, and I wouldn't have had it any other way. Still, I wish I could have gone to college before I left. I signed up for the G.I. Bill. When my term is over, I'll be going to school for business. I think it's really cool that you're an art major. I wish  i could draw. Do you think that could send me one of your drawings in your next letter? i'd love to see what you've made.

Thanks for the picture of you! I gotta say, if you had asthma when you were younger, you must have grown right out of it. You look kind of like a brick house to me. I'll send a picture of myself to you with this letter. I'm 27 years old, just turned in March, and if you think you've had a late start on college, then I'll just gladly inform you that I joined the army straight out of high school. You're on a head start compared to me, don't discount yourself. I'm a big movie and book buff too, but I guess that makes sense if they paired us both up by our interests haha. I grew up reading Tolkien and Douglas Adams myself. I remember reading Catcher in the Rye in high school. I liked it. As for the art, I'll be the judge of your art. If anyone can draw a straight line without a ruler, I appreciate their art. Trust me, I bet your stuff is great.

And don't feel bad about the questions. I think it's really cute. And as for the fine naked people, I would NEVER be able to sit through an art class with naked people in front of me and keep a straight face. You have the patience of a saint. Especially if you want to be a teacher later on in life.

So far, we're alright over here. We've been getting reports in about the bombings every day, but so far they haven't been near us. I promise I'll be safe. I really hope I get to hear back from you, Steve. It was really nice to speak to you. I think we could be really good friends. Thanks for the picture. I'll be putting it in my wallet to look at every day.

Hope to hear back from you soon, adorable fool.

Sgt. Bucky Barnes.

* * *

 

 

To: Sergeant James B. Barnes  
From: Steve Rogers

Dear, Sgt. Bucky (It’s Bucky now right? or do I still call you James?)  
  
So, you were expecting a child to be writing you? This isn’t a letdown is it? I could always let my neighbor write you a paragraph or so. She’s five. She’s always over here asking me to come draw with chalk outside with her. I should take pictures of those pieces. They end up masterpieces. My dragons, elegantly soaring through her floating, magical cupcakes and “kitties.” Pure genius. We’re going to be famous one day.  
  
Yeah, I’m pretty sure doing laps in the desert is great fun. Really good for the sinuses, huh? But I’m glad you’re happy with where you are. That’s what’s most important in life. Going to school for business is smart. Unlike me, you’ll actually have a job! My favorite part of being an art major is when people ask me, “Well what are you going to do with that?” Or they discredit it as not being a “real” major. Oh well. Price I pay for doing what I want to do right? Though sometimes it’s fun to shove it in their face when I make a pretty hefty commission for doing random odd jobs, mostly murals around our city. I should take pictures of those and show you them. I attached…actually a drawing of you. From your picture. I’m sure I got a lot wrong since I only saw the one angle but I thought it’d be kind of fun? I hope you like it. If not, I could always try again. But you’d have to send me more pictures ;)  
  
Oh. No. I still have asthma. You can lead a pretty healthy lifestyle and still be subjected to lungs that decide to randomly say, “I hate you, now suffer.” It’s great fun, running on a treadmill at low and suddenly you’re falling back off it and crawling over to your gym bag making terribly embarrassing wheezing sounds while everyone is staring at you. Fun stuff.

Tolkien is an inspiration! I was reading his stuff when I was a kid. My mom tried so hard to keep those books away from me. I apparently got nightmares a lot about orcs. I don’t really remember. I was too busy pretending I was an elf and would climb all over the furniture in our house and pretend I was shooting a bow. I think I scared a few of my mom’s boyfriend’s off. Oh well. I also am pretty sure I broke a few bones that way…now that I think about it. Oh I’m rambling again.

I think I’ll send you a compilation of artwork next time. If you’d like that? I was kind of unprepared to send you something. I didn’t expect to get a letter back so fast. Figured my first oh-so-elegant letter would have chased you off. You could really judge my work then. J 

You think it’s cute? My questions? I mean, that’s great. I just guess most people find me kind of…intrusive? Annoying? To put it more to the point. Haha. I guess I’ll be asking more questions then. Oh and BELIEVE me, I am not always straight faced in my life model drawing class. There’s this one guy who comes in and he’s got these big built muscles and he (to steal your words) looks like a legit brick house. He’s in this white robe right? And I’m with my friends and we’re pretty excited because, well, he’s a “specimen,” and suddenly he takes off his robe and we start giggling because he’s got the smallest uh…well…we’re both men here, but, I don’t know. Is it inappropriate if I say dick? I guess I could say penis. I just always say dick. Less science-y and more, casual? I don’t know. Anyway, this man is hung like a grape… I don’t even think he could even get four inches out of an erection. So…needless to say, there was a lot of laughter in the corner of the room that day. Our professor wanted to kill us, but the guy took it like a champ. Actually, I don’t think he had any idea we were laughing at him. His body was so perfect outside of that! He probably thought we were just making jokes about other things! Guy was obsessed with himself. I mean, who comes into a nudes class in a white robe? Most of the other models just wear yoga pants and stuff and just drop ‘em. 

You have wallets over there? Wow, that was probably a dumb question. I’m sure you still have to pay for stuff. Hey, maybe I’ll send you more pictures of myself. We’ll just have to see how your next letter goes! (I’m teasing. You actually write a letter. I just fumble around and pray you think I’m mildly amusing. I am mildly amusing right?) 

Please keep being safe. I was worried till I got your letter, and now I’m worried all over again. Heard about the suicide bombers today. I hope they weren’t near your base or you weren’t near them. 

Your adorable fool,  
Steve

* * *

 

 

To: Steve Rogers  
From: Sgt. Bucky Barnes

Dear Steve,

I actually encourage you to call me Bucky. I actually hate being called James. It's what my mama used to call me when I was in trouble as a kid. So Bucky is much more preferable for me. And as for the letter not being written by an adorable 5 year old, I am EXTREMELY disappointed. You really must remedy this the next letter you write to me. And yes, send me all the pictures you can. My wallet is painfully empty and it needs a lot of love. I need to see the preemptive art of the next famous painting duo before you two become too famous to even speak to a lowly soldier like me.  

Actually I really want to see ALL of your work. I've always appreciated art in any form, and if you've done paid commissions for Brooklyn, you really must be good. And a business degree might be smart, but it. Is. BORING. Boring, but... you know... fulfilling. I dunno. Looks like your rambling is rubbing off on me. I kinda like it.

And Holy SHIT, you drew that of ME? That's... yeah, I need to see all of your art. That's gorgeous. I thought that was just a copy of the photo I sent you. You're amazing! Hell yeah I'll send more pictures for you to draw. I mean, If you think I'm so pretty that you draw me so nice, I might as well give you some more muse to draw, right? You actually make me look hot. Amazing job, you deserve a prize for that, haha! I've attached a few more pictures at the bottom of the letter. Some of them are of the others in my unit. We're the Howling Commandos, if you ever need inspiration for a comic book. That's me giving you a thumbs up.

And I guess I get that. Asthma decides when it strikes its next victim. I'd almost find it kind of adorable, if it wasn't, you know, sort of lethal. Don’t worry, If I ever join you in the gym, I'll make sure to carry you to the gym bag for your meds. I've had to carry plenty of people on my back already, so you'd be no sweat. I bet the wheezing noises are kinda cute.

Oh my god, I wasn't the only one faking battles on Minas Tirith! That's amazing; I can't believe you liked Lord of the Rings as much as I do! We need to make a date and marathon the trilogies over and over again. We'll just lock ourselves up in a dark room with the Hobbits and plenty of ale. How's that sound? And keep rambling. I'm loving reading it.

As for the guy you had to draw, I can definitely believe it. The guy was probably so strung up on steroids it melted is two-bits to raisins. I've seen plenty of guys here, that get all hopped up and muscle bound, and their presence in the shower room is... you know... not impressive. I'd know. I won't go into details, you know.. .don't make a big deal out of it, but I've never really swung for the opposite team. But yeah, guy sounded like a total tool. I bet your drawing of him was the best, though.

I actually really like your rambling, so please, when you send a letter back to me, just do what you're doing. It's amazing to read and definitely takes a lot out of the monotony here. I'm definitely looking forward to all of your letters now. If you want to keep writing that is. I mean, this isn't required of anyone, so if you get tired after a few letters, I'd totally understand. You have a life over there, and I'm here in the desert. But I really hope I get another letter and more pictures. They're definitely an amazing highlight of my day.

As for the suicide bombers... yeah they were close by, but everything turned out alright. Don't worry. I'm a lot tougher than you think. Don't worry. I'll be sending you another letter if you reply to me.

Your soldier,

Bucky

* * *

 

 

To: Sergeant James B. Barnes  
From: Steve Rogers

Hey, Soldier,

You having fun in the heat? I got curious and Googled the weather and anything over 90 makes me want to curl up in a freezer forever, so I can only imagine what 107 must feel like. I’d be melting away. You by chance naked at all? If you have a camera handy… I still haven’t gotten to draw you naked. Just saying. No pressure. : ) Or you could just take pictures of the Commandos…going commando. I’d be down with that too. (Joking! Maybe. Idk. The English one’s pretty cute…) God, I’m laughing at my own bad joke. I need help. How do you put up with me? I’m the most annoying letter-writer on the planet. 

So hey, remember that guy that I told you about MONTHS ago? The one with the tiny dick? HE CAME BACK! I lost it! I’ve sent some of the drawings we had to do of him in class today. Mine aren’t terribly good since I was laughing the entire time thinking of the day I told you about him. Oh my God! His dick I think is smaller! HE got bigger! I don’t understannnnnd! Whyyyy! If I was his date and we were all “hey your place or mine” and THAT was my surprise. I’d…well. I’d probably still do it, cause hey, getting laid and all, but I’d be laughing the entire time. Awkward. You bring out the worst in me. I blame you.  

My mom says hi by the way. She asks that you stay safe and keep your gun out of people’s asses. (Is there a joke here I don’t know about? Have you been sending letters to my mom too?!) Oh and while we’re on the subject of women who I’m suspicious you’re talking to… Maggie, my chalk-partner-in-crime also says hi and she hopes you got her pictures from her winning the chalk drawing contest. (I sent those right? Or are you really letter-cheating on me?) 

We started a new semester. Yay summer term! I know you told me to take the summer off, but I just couldn’t! I…may have picked up another major. Education. I’m pretty set on being a teacher now. I just want to make a difference. I didn’t get to join the army, but I could still help in other ways. I think influencing a child and making sure they’re better prepared for the future is really the right way to go. I know I used to joke about how that’d be basically the only career path for me, but I think…I was joking cause I already knew it’s what I wanted to do. And with all my credits in English, I could also be an English teacher! Look! I’m multi-dimensional! I think I’m just going to go ahead and pick up a minor in English. I think I’d only need a creative writing or poetry class and I’d be finished. 

I’m really sorry that I didn’t send you that video you requested. I just can’t bring myself to talk into a camera and not have someone talk back. I tried? But maybe we can talk on the phone one day? How’s that for a compromise? I don’t know why we haven’t even thought of that before. I guess there’s just been something so poetic about sending letters to a soldier.

I know I say this almost every letter but, I’m really glad we got to “meet.” Sometimes I’ll be sitting in class, looking down at a screenprint (I’m in a screen printing class. I learned how to make graphics on shirts!) that I’m doing and I’ll just…wonder about you. I hope these letters make your day go by easier. I know you say they do but I want you to really mean it. I turn around and write back the second I see I got something in the mail from you. I just…I keep glued to the global news network and every bombing or terrorist strike or whatever over there gets me TERRIFIED for you.  I know it’s not like you’re out wandering by yourself drunk and stupid but…actually, I wouldn’t put it past you to be out wandering by yourself drunk. And you are stupid. Now I’m more worried! Please use the buddy system or whatever system the army has! Especially when you’re drinking!! 

Damn it. I just worry about you all the time nowadays. I can’t help it. You’ve come to mean a lot to me. I just wanted you to know that. You jerk.

Yours,  
Steve

* * *

 

 

To:Steve Rogers  
From: Sergeant James B. Barnes

Dear Steve,

Well I guess the cat's out of the bag. I have been writing letters to your mother and Maggie behind your back. It’s getting pretty serious between us all, so I guess I'll just have to come clean and say I've got two fine women on the side. But don't worry. I like you best.

Oh yeah, running in 100+ degree weather is a blast. Coming back sweaty and panting and groaning... Wait that's me after a wild night out. My bad. Running in the heat is a fucking bitch, especially with all the Kevlar on (and nothing else). I wish I knew how to draw a sultry face, because that deserves a tease right there. Emails would be definitely better. And I told Falsworth you think he's cute. He replied in classic British fashion that he doesn’t steal men from his friends. I guess that means the Commandos think you and I are exclusive. I'm more than ok with that idea.

The guy came back? Oh God. Now I see the new pictures in the envelope. That's just pathetic. I don't even think I could sleep with him after seeing that tiny worm. You're a champ. Poor guy. I'm not sure if I feel sorry for laughing at him or for you having to stare at it all day while he flexes his muscles like the Terminator. I really am not sure, but you artists. You're made of stronger mettle than me; That’s for sure.

Huzzah for school! You better get good grades, or that LOTR marathon we were talking about isn’t happening. I mean it. Do good in school, don't do drugs, you know, all that stuff, (but take your asthma medication. I don't want you dying on me before I get a chance to meet you. I expect to see a report card in the mail, if I'm not back before the semester is over.

And yeah I'd want to talk to you on the phone!! We actually have a phone tent here that we can use to call home, or that people can call us. I'll give you the number so you can call me. Just remember were on opposite sides of the world, so I'm done around 7pm every day. That's like 8 am over there I think? I'll go right to the tent and check for calls. If I'm not there, just tell them that you called and I'll dial you right back. Hopefully we don't get a sandstorm. That fucks with the connection. I look forward to hearing your voice, Stevie. Is it ok if I call you Stevie?? I hope so.

I reserve my drunken wanderings for when we're on leave so don't worry I'm not gonna go wandering off into the desert and get shot up. You're not getting rid of me that easily. As for the shootings and bombings, I can't lie, they're getting kinda bad. We've been taking a lot of excursions out to try and clean up the area, but they just keep popping up like daisies. Hopefully I'll get to hear you on the phone before my next scouting. I'm usually gone for a couple days on those.

Anyway, not to scare you or anything, just laying it out there, because reality and all that. If you're still making t-shirts, I hope I get a custom one. I'm a sucker for graphic tees. The wackier the better. Anyway I have to sign off for now, though I wish I could just keep writing to you. I have PT at 0600, so I need to get some sleep. You take care and don't let that asthma get to you. 

P.s. I keep your letters under my pillow in the barracks and read them every night. You're not the only one with a weakness for old war movies...

Always yours,

Bucky

* * *

 

 

To: Sergeant James B. Barnes  
From: Steve Rogers

Buck, (If you’re calling me Stevie I’m calling you Buck. ((Better than…Boo Bear right?)) =)

It was amazing actually hearing your voice. Sorry if I sounded distracted. That wasn’t intentional I just… You’ve got an amazing voice. I almost cried. Don’t make it weird. It’s just nice to really get something that personal with you after so long. I mean, these letters have been some of the best things in my life, but actually _hearing_ you… I don’t know. I’m just being sappy and weird. So maybe I made this weird. I hope you’re laughing at me. I really liked your laugh. 

So. I’ve confronted my mother. She keeps your letters too. I may or may not have read…two. I guess it’s okay if you’ve got side ladies. My mom is awesome. Maggie keeps calling you “her” soldier. Well, she says “my” soldier but you know, she’s not the one talking and I am and English and all that. Sorry. Rambling. It’s really cute. I really like how you’ve been corresponding with her. We’re not the richest people on the planet. Our neighborhood can get kind of dangerous. It’s really nice that she’s got someone like you to talk to. You’re really inspirational to her. A hero. Something I really never could be. I was just able to be her friend. But you’re really making a difference in her life. I don’t know what you’re saying to her but she’s got her grades turned around and she’s always so proud now. I think she likes knowing she’s got a soldier fighting for her. (Just don’t go running off with her okay? I’m still here!)

I’m more than okay with them thinking we’re exclusive. Truth be told, since I’ve started writing to you I just kind of stopped looking at other people. I mean, we’ve had this talk about me being bisexual? I don’t really see anyone anymore. All I see is you. At first it wasn’t intentional. I was just pretty excited I had this hot soldier overseas that was writing to me. I still looked at people and went, “Hey s/he’s cute…” but that was about it. Now it’s like I can’t see them for anything other than just people. I don’t know. I think I’m getting a bit too weird. (I’m paying for that whole “don’t make it weird comment.”) I tried so hard to be sassy and it’s just not working! So, you talk to them about me a lot? I mean, I’ve seen Band of Brothers (one of my favorites but I’m sure it’s not entirely accurate). They all talked about their significant others to each other. Showed pictures. Does no one really care? About your sexuality? I don’t know. Maybe I’m still sometimes uncertain about how people’ll react to mine. Though usually I’m more preoccupied with how they’ll see me as an entire person. I haven’t had the best luck with people, I guess. Sorry, I’m rambling again. I know you’ve said it time in and time out that you like it, but, I just like apologizing? Maybe?

So, I guess I should tell you… Just in case. I got in a fight. I know I told you I’d stop trying to pick fights with people but this guy was being a dick. He grabbed his girlfriend’s wrist really hard and I just…had to say something. Girlfriend at least took pity on me after her boyfriend rammed my head into a garbage can. That was fun. I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I guess it’s so you can yell at me and tell me how stupid I can be? I kind of like it when you’re “yelling” at me. (And now that I know what your voice sounds like…it’s nice thinking about).

I’m designing you a t-shirt. It’s whacky. I’ll give you a hint. Aliens and a unicorn. That’s all I’m saying. You’ll love it. I’m thinking of making myself one too because it’s pretty hilarious.

PLEASE stay safe. You’ve got a great squadron. I know they’ll protect you and you’ll protect them but… Well I’ll always worry. You could say you were safe and sound and I’d still worry about you. That excursion you mentioned (last night, I still can’t believe I got to hear your voice last night). I’m just worried. Keep your head up. Stay alert. I know this’ll probably get to you AFTER you’re back but… I don’t know. I’m just wanting to send good vibes? Please stay safe. I can’t stress it enough. I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt. I don’t know…

That’s enough about that. I know you’ll be safe. You’re a real hero. Heroes make it though. 

Yours,

Steve

* * *

 

 

To: Sergeant James B. Barnes  
From: Steve Rogers

Bucky,

Did you get my last letter? I sent it the day after we spoke on the phone. It’s been a few weeks; longer than usual. I was just checking. It’s fine if you haven’t had a chance to respond yet! I know you said you were going on an excursion so maybe you’re just really tired from that. Or maybe it got lost. I don’t know how the postal service works.

I just need to know if you’re safe. I’d like to talk on the phone again? Maybe just call me?

Yours,

Steve

* * *

 

 

To: Sergeant James B. Barnes  
From: Steve Rogers

Bucky,

It’s been a month. If you don’t want to talk to me anymore that’s fine. I just need to know. Did my last letter scare you? Did I say something wrong? I just need to know. I’ll stop writing if you don’t want me to anymore. I just really would appreciate if you’d tell me. If you don’t want to talk anymore, that’s fine. I’d understand. I just need to know you’re safe. I’ll stop after you tell me you’re alive.

I saw the news today. I saw that a whole squadron got taken out a few weeks back. They haven’t released the names yet. 

I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I said something wrong. I’m sorry if I made you angry. I don’t know what I said, but it wasn’t intentional. Just please tell me you’re alive? I’d rather know you’re safe and you don’t want me sending you letters anymore than you just…disappearing. Please Bucky. I can take it. You just have to tell me. Please respond to me. I swear I’ll go away. I just need to know you’re alive.

Please,  
Steve

* * *

 

 

To: Sergeant James B. Barnes  
From: Steve Rogers

Look,

If you don’t want to talk to me anymore, fine. Just be a man about it and tell me! Please don’t leave me sitting here thinking you’re hurt or something! Or dead! I’ve been glued to the damn television watching the news about what’s going on over there and THEY’RE NOT TELLING ME ANYTHING! It’s all bullshit isn’t it? Just PLEASE tell me if you’re safe!

I’ll stop caring. I’ll go away. I’ll leave you alone. Just PLEASE PLEASE tell me. I just…need to hear it. I know I’m not the most interesting person. I know I’m not the most attractive. I just. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did to make you stop writing me. I didn’t mean to. Maybe you found someone else?

You stopped writing Maggie. She won’t come out of her bedroom. She thinks you’re dead. At least she’s got the decency to believe you’re dead but I know better. I know you’re harder to kill. I just know it. My mom said you haven’t sent her anything either but why would you when you don’t want to talk to me anymore? What did I do? Please just tell me! I just need closure. I can’t sit here every night thinking about you. I can’t sleep. I get nightmares. I worry that you really are dead. No one would ever tell me. I’m not family. I’m not even a “friend.” I’m just a stupid penpal. I am nothing to you or your life. No one would even tell me if you were gone. I’d never know. I’d never get to attend your funeral. I’d never get to meet your Commandos. I’d never know. I’d just…lie here in bed and wonder if you hate me or if you’re dead. Please don’t be dead. Please hate me. I’d rather have you hate me.

I…please. Please don’t do this to me. I just need to know.

Why don’t you want to talk to me anymore? What did I do? I didn’t mean it. I swear I didn’t mean it. I know I’m not the best person. I know I’m… well I’m used to rejection. I just didn’t think… You of all people. I don’t know. You are too good for me. I’m sorry. I’ll stop writing. I’ve wasted enough of your time.

Clearly I didn’t get the hint. But I’m getting it now. Just please…don’t stop writing Maggie. She really needs you.

I’m sorry.

I really cared about you.

I’ll stop now.

Steve

* * *

 

 

To: Steve Rogers  
From: Sergeant James Barnes

Steve,

Before I go into details, know this: I would NEVER EVER JUST STOP WRITING YOU WITHOUT GIVING YOU A REASON. You’re insanely gorgeous inside and out, and I really like you, please get that Shit out of your head that I would just stop writing to you because I didn't care. Please! You, Sarah, Maggie... You're letters are the best gifts I could ever receive, and I am so, so unbelievably fucking sorry that I couldn't write back sooner. When I got to talk to you on the phone, I was so ecstatic you have no idea. I couldn't stop smiling that whole night, and I couldn't sleep. I just kept thinking about you and how amazing you really are. Please, please, please forgive me for not getting to write back to you and making you think you scared me off. On the contrary, I want to get to know you even MORE now. Do me a favor, and tell Maggie that I'm alive and well, and tell Sarah that everything is alright now. But, Yu guys were right to worry. I'm sorry...

I'm sorry... It was my squadron that got bombed. We got led right into a red zone and ambushed. We lost a lot of guys that day and I and Dum Dum ended up getting medevac'd to a military hospital in Syria. I can't give details as to where exactly it is or what happened. All I know is I didn't wake up for three days. Surprisingly, they said I didn't receive any extensive injuries. It was mostly head trauma for me. Me and Dum Dum got lucky. A lot of others... Not so much.

Goddammit I can't shake how fucking sorry I am for not writing back to you and making you think I didn't like you anymore. I don't think I could forgive myself for that. I wish they would have forwarded our letters to those in the hospital because I know a lot of guys got upset letters from home while we were all laid up. But if course they didn't, and here we all are writing frantic letters or making calls back home. I didn't know if I would be welcomed to calling you after the letters I received, so I figured a letter might be a safer way to broach coming back, crawling, on my hands and knees. I’m so sorry, Stevie. Please don't be angry with me.

Now going back to your first letter before I disappeared, I'm gonna knock you upside the head for getting into a fight. I know you got a vigilante complex, but seriously. Brooklyn isn't the place you want to get cornered in an alley and your skull kicked in. I should know. I grew up there too. Seriously... I may be over here, but I worry about you back home too. I worry about you every day with your shitty lungs and your bullheaded need to jump into a fight all the time. I'm kinda glad you told me about it because if it had been the other way around and I stopped getting letters from you cause you went and got yourself concussed, I’d be shitting myself scared.

My head is starting to hurt from staring at this paper for so long and my wrist is still casted up which is making holding this pen awkward. I'm sorry I have to sign off so soon, but I swear to you I will write as close to every day as I can now, until they release me from the hospital. I'm so damn sorry for disappearing on you, Stevie. Please tell Maggie and Sarah I'm thinking about them and I'll write them as soon as I can, but, mostly... Mostly I'm thinking about you, punk.

P.s. Dum Dum is laughing at me for freaking out over this letter. Plus I think I might have misspelled a lot of words. My head still feels like chopped liver right now so don't make fun of my awful spelling skills, college boy.

~~I lov~~

I'm thinking about you and really, really care about you Stevie.

Always Yours,

Bucky

* * *

 

 

To: Sergeant James B. Barnes  
From: Steve

Bucky,

Oh my God. I WAS WORRIED SICK ABOUT YOU! I couldn’t. I thought. I can’t even figure out what to say. I was so upset! I thought I’d pushed you away! I thought I’d made you hate me. Oh my God. I can’t. I can’t even see straight right now. I’M STILL WORRIED SICK ABOUT YOU! I…I threw myself into an asthma attack. My inhaler was hardly cutting it. Jesus Christ, Bucky. I’m going to smack whoever thought it was a good idea to stall all you and everyone else’s letters. Jesus. I can’t tell you how relieved I am to see your letter. When I got it. Holy shit. Bucky… I thought I lost you. I can’t even describe how utterly alone and angry at myself I felt. I was scared you were hurt. But mostly I just thought… I’m not used to people caring about me. I just assumed. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for being an idiot.

ARE YOU OKAY?! ARE YOU HEALING? ARE THEY FEEDING YOU?! Oh my God. I can’t do this. I hate that you’re over there now. All I want is for you to get out now. I need you here. I can’t stomach you going back out there all over again after all that you’ve experienced. Are you okay? Now? I mean, how do you feel? Don’t fucking lie to me either. I’ll know. Your penmanship gets all too neat. You’re a slob at writing, you know that? Jesus. Bucky, I can’t tell you how relieved I am to know you’re alive. That you don’t hate me. God, I thought…

I’m so sorry. I was stupid and impulsive and irrational and just so scared. I didn’t want to even stomach the idea that something could of happened and something DID happen. Jesus, Bucky. I can’t stop crying. I’m sorry. I’ll go back over the letters cause I keep smearing the ink. I don’t know why I don’t just type this stuff up on a computer. I just love sending whatever part of me I can over to you. I’m attaching a couple drawings from Maggie. I’ve never seen her so happy when I showed her your letter. I think she sent you like…10. So watch out for all those. She wouldn’t stop hugging me. Mom’s glad to know you’re safe. She also cried. Who’d have ever thought that we could become so close? All we’re doing is writing to each other. I’ve never seen you…really. I’ve just gotten parts of you. I know how you sound. I can picture how you act but …I don’t know if you’re a frequent blinker or a lip biter. I don’t know if you talk with your hands or if you sway when you stand. But I feel I know you. I feel I know everything about you and I know hardly anything about how you present yourself in the world. I just…know your soul. Right? I feel you know mine. I feel… Shit. I’m so sorry. I can’t stop crying. I don’t cuss like this either and I keep contemplating scratching it all out but I just feel it drives this whole thing home. CHRIST Bucky! I was so terrified. I’m still terrified. I hate that you’re over there. I hate that you can’t tell me where you’ve been or what really happened. I hate that the media is chocking this all up to just some bad extremists. THEY STILL HAVEN’T EVEN RELEASED THE NAMES OF THE DEAD! The Commandos. Are they? Can you tell me? Can you just… I don’t know. Draw a snowman on your letter for yes they’re alive or a carrot for no? Can you even draw a snowman? I know you say you suck at art but that can’t be that hard can it?

Bucky… I hate this. I hate that you got hurt. I hate that I thought… I can’t forgive myself for doubting you. I can’t forgive myself for thinking you didn’t care. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have stopped believing in you. I’ll never do that again. I swear. I’ll always believe in you. You mean the fucking world to me now.

I’m so sorry. I’ve really mucked up this letter. Good luck reading it. I’m so sorry. Please get better. Please rest. Please be safe. Please know that I’m over here cheering you on and praying and hoping and believing in you. I’m sending a bunch of dopey drawings. Most of them are stupid comics I drew of you doing stupid shit around base, like pulling pranks and running around with your ass hanging out in just Kevlar. I don’t know. I thought it was funny. I drew them before your letters stopped but I didn’t think they were appropriate? They’re stupid. But. You need some stupid. Maybe? To get your head out of what happened? I hope your head heals soon. I’m so worried. They’re not sending you back out are they? You’re not gonna do this again are you? Please Bucky. Please don’t. Please don’t go back out. I can’t… I can’t lose you. Please.

I’d be lost without you,

Steve

* * *

 

 

To: Steve Rogers  
From: Sergeant James B. Barnes

Stevie,

So you're probably gonna get this letter at the same time as the other one, but I'm ok with that. I went in for my last check up with the docs here and they said I'm actually healing faster than they anticipated. I told them its because of all the awesome letters and pictures I'm getting from you guys. They really did help, lemme tell ya.

The reason I'm writing this letter is because I'm telling you they're discharging me from the army. Don't worry, it's not a dishonorable, one or anything like that. Its considered a medical discharge, which is the same thing as an honorable one. I get a purple heart out of it and everything! Dum Dum and Morita are also getting medical discharges, but everyone else is sticking it out for the rest of the term which was due up in six months anyway.

The long and short of it is I'm coming home!

Since I really don't have family to welcome me home, I thought I'd tell you since... You know we've been saying we wanted to meet up and everything. I was wondering, and this is entirely up to you... If you would be there at the airport to get me. Its a lot to ask I know, but id rather meet you sooner rather than later. I'm not leaving for another two weeks, so you have time to think about it.

Its selfish I know, but I’d really love it if you were there when I got off the plane.

Anyway I don't have much else to say, since I covered a lot of it in the last letter. I hope I hear back from you soon. I'll try and call next week when I can get to a phone properly.

Until then... It’s nice to write to you regularly without sweating my balls off in a heavy uniform every day. Regardless of the terms... It’s been kind of nice to sit back and relax finally.

I hope to hear back soon, punk.

Your Bucky

* * *

 

 

To: Steve Rogers  
 From: Sergeant James B. Barnes

Stevie,

It's been there weeks since I've been put in this Damn hospital room, and I'm seriously about to punch Dum Dum in the head. Trust me, when you get locked up in a room with someone 24/7 it gets to be a little annoying. I still love the guy but Damn, I could use a change of scenery.

They took me back for an xray of my head, so I'm just waiting for the results to come back. Hopefully the concussion has finally gone away. They are saying they want to send me back to camp hopefully today or tomorrow, so I'm ridiculously glad that this is almost over. I'm not looking forward to post attack duty again, but... I guess it's part of the contract.

I hope youre doing better. The last couple of letters I got from you... Man you're so sweet. All the pictures and drawings... I can't stop looking at them. Dum Dum even likes looking at them. He got a kick out of the Kevlar comic, and he won't let me live it down. Normally I'd be bothered by that but... Its from you and I'm loving it.

How's class going for you so far? Did you have to draw anymore weirdos in bathrobes or did you get the normal yucks in yoga pants, (I've  considers buying yoga pants now just to see if you want to draw me... for science of course). I got a few more letters from Maggie. Her drawings are getting really good. I think you're gonna have competition soon. But id still vote for your art any day. Don't tell Maggie I said that.

I also got another letter from your mom. She said that whenever I get to come back home she wants me to visit. I'm way ok with that idea. I just wanted to,mention it to you.., in case you might be against the idea.

Ok the nurse came back into the room so I have to sign off now. I'll let you know what they said my test results are. Still got the Damn cast on my hand though. I think they said another month for that one before it comes off, I don't care. Just as long as the headaches stop. I'm  starting to forget what a head feels like when it's not throbbing. Or what non hospital good tastes like. I'm actually craving MRE's now. How screwed up is that???

Anyway, I'll write to you soon. Take care, Stevie.

Your soldier,

Bucky

* * *

 

 

To: Sergeant James B. Barnes  
From: Steve Rogers

Bucky,

I got both your letters. I really hope this one reaches you before you leave. I think we should call each other to talk further because, I’d love to pick you up from the airport. I’d need details though.

Oh my gosh, when I read those words. You coming home. I freaked out and ran through the apartment screaming like a mad man. I was jumping on our couch. I don’t think my mom was ready for that. (Or her boyfriend. He…hasn’t called back since….buuuuut). I don’t care. I’m so relieved. So’s my mom. She’s already planning the thousands of foods she’s going to cook you. Holy shit, Bucky. I never ever ever ever in a million years believed this could happen. I never thought that we’d reach this point. I signed up for this penpal thing on a whim. More of a “Well, I didn’t get to, but I want them to know how much they mean to me.” I never would have believed we’d get this far. I honestly thought for the longest time you were just joking about all your little flirty quips. Thought it was just how you behave. You know, military guys and their humor? Different. More crude sometimes. Then you got sappy. Jesus. I’m shaking. I’m trying to pretend like I’m keeping my cool, but I’m not. I’m so thrilled. I can’t wait for you to be safe in a bed that is away from a warzone. I can’t wait for you to walk down a street in whatever clothing you felt like to grab a hot dog or meet with me for coffee. I just… I can’t wait. I. Can’t. Wait.

Being able to really see you for the first time. I don’t even know what I’ll do. So, with that…don’t freak out if I clamp up or get really professional? I’m just awkward. Just know I’m going to be trembling inside and if I don’t cry (cause we’ve realized I cry a lot…don’t take offense…) I’m just. I’m weird. You know this.

Anyway. Call me. Call me call me call me. I really hope this letter reaches you before you leave.

I can’t believe it.

I’ll be seeing you. 

I’m so happy,

Steve

* * *

 


	2. Letter from Chapter 2 of "P.S. I Love You"

  **Letter from Chapter 2**

To: Bucky Barnes

From: Steve Rogers

Bucky,

Welcome back to civilization! I wanted to say I was sorry for acting so weird yesterday. I guess I was just a little nervous about finally getting to meet you? You're way prettier in person, you know that? Guess I was just a little overwhelmed by getting to see you for the first time. I hope you slept okay and aren't too weirded out by my actions yesterday.

So... Coney Island? I'm actually heading out there pretty quick, so I'll definitely be looking for you by the gates! I just have to make a quick stop over at Maggie's house and help her finish up her most recent masterpiece. I swear, you were right. She's gonna be better than me by the time she's 8! A real Dali if you ask me.

I won't waste your time too much with this letter. What's say we meet at the gates of Luna Park around 2? That'll give us enough time to get some fun in before the dinner reservations. See you later, Handsome. (Am I doing this whole flirting thing right? I hope so. I wouldn't want to disappoint you at all!)

Yours,

Stevie

 


	3. Chapter 7 Letters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7 letters from Brock and Bucky with no formatting or special imaging. 
> 
> For full story: [Click Me!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4195605/chapters/9477324)

Bucky,

You know I’m not the best when it comes to heavy shit, so I’m gonna keep this short and sweet. You’re not a bad person. You’re not a weak person. You’re not a monster. You ARE human. We humans make mistakes. We get scared. We cry. We lose people who we thought we couldn’t live without. We gain people who never knew we were missing. You didn’t know you were missing Steve before you met him. But he already had half your heart. You just didn’t know it. Now, I ain’t gay or shit, so I don’t really know how all that works, but I do know this: you haven’t lost him. Tell him. Tell him everything. EVERYTHING. Let him know what happened to you and WHY. From the way you talk about him, there ain’t no way he’s done with you. You just gotta TELL him what happened. You’re a fighter.   
  
Oh, and I’ll bet you’re confused about what I gave you. That’s a piece of rubble from my tour in Iraq. That’s my baggage. I’m giving it to you with the expectation you will throw it away. And that you’ll throw your baggage along with it. I killed a man with that piece of rubble. Was my first kill and it has always haunted me because He. Was. Innocent. But I’d been scared. We people, we make mistakes. I won’t ever forgive myself, but I’ve learned to ACCEPT it. You gotta accept yours too

Love ya, sport,  
Brock

* * *

 

Steve,  
  
I’m sure you don’t want to hear it, and if that’s true, fine. Throw this away. But I’m going to do the decent thing here and stop lying to you. It was never my intention to overtly lie. I didn’t know I had a problem and when Peter finally told me at that surprise party, I’d been angry and reluctant to believe him. I tried to rationalize everything. I survived the war. All my limbs are attached to me and I’m alive. I had you to look forward to and I thought, “How can I have PTSD? I didn’t lose an arm. I didn’t lose my life. I’m here.” But I was wrong. I was so very wrong and because of that denial, I lost the most important person in the world. I lost you. I accept that, you know? I deserve your silence and I’m not asking you to ever speak to me again. But I owe you this. So here it goes…

You know I was ambushed. What you don’t know is all the details of that ambush. You know I lost friends. What you don’t know, is that I saw intestines spewing from my friend Dernier, as he frantically tried to put them back in. I heard him crying, begging me to fix him when he knew I couldn’t. I saw him die. I huddled against a collapsed wall, listening to gunfire and the cries of other men and I didn’t hold his hand. I watched. From a distance. From a safe place. I saw him die. I was scared Steve. I was so scared. I thought of you and how you’d feel if I suddenly stopped writing (and we saw that didn’t we?). I thought, “I’ve got to live! I’ve got to live for Steve!” But that wasn’t the worst of it, dollbaby.

After Dernier died, I started to move again. I knew I couldn’t stay there. It smelled like copper and ash and the gunshots were getting louder. I moved into a building that hadn’t collapsed yet. I don’t know if I was running away or if I was just trying to figure out what to do next. I couldn’t find any Commando and the men who were on my team were faceless and just as terrified as me. I saw a guy shit himself. Actual shit, Steve. (In perhaps another situation, I’d have found this hilarious but here, I almost cried). He was young, about eighteen and all he kept saying with his shit-stained pants was that he should’ve gone to college. Soldiers, we’re not these impervious, honorable heroes the movies make us out to be. We’re often times people too broke for an education and desperate to be something better than we’ve been. That doesn’t mean we’re bad people. Some of us maybe… but not all. Bad things happen to good people, Stevie. You’re good people and me...I happened to you.

I lost my gun awhile back. All I had were a few knives, grenades and my absolute out-of-my-mind terror and desire to fight for you. Fuck, Steve. I know you hate me and that’s fine. I accept that. But you are the reason I touched American soil again, I swear it. You’re the reason I didn’t suffer a complete breakdown and just give up. I saw so many men and women, huddled in corners, clutching guns with tears on their faces and they were just...done. When death comes at you and it’s unnatural, not peaceful or an illness (hell maybe even they experience this, I can’t really know)...it’s the worst feeling. It’s heavy at the back of your spine right between your hips and it’s HEAVY, but it doesn’t stop there. You start thinking about every single human on the planet just, hanging out, watching TV, maybe some chick is texting a dude she likes and you just suddenly HATE THEM. I hated them. I hated every person who wasn’t in my situation because that could’ve been my last moment and they had NO IDEA. I won’t keep going on about what it’s like to actually “face death” because...that’s not what this is about, though it kind of is? I don’t know. I haven’t even begun. Are you even reading this? Shit, you may just throw this out and I’ll never know.

I found Pinkerton, another Commando and for a moment we thought, “Wow, we’re gonna live.” We were together and we had each other’s backs and we were gonna live! Then the building collapsed. Someone had bombed us. It was loud, it was thick and I was choking. Choking on dust and rubble, rasping out a voice that I wasn’t sure if it was even mine. I was screaming for Pinky. My eyes were all fucked up and I was so dizzy. There was this loud ringing in my ears and my head was THROBBING. I couldn’t pass a sobriety test to save my life at that point. I stumbled on all fours, coughing and gagging till I was vomiting. I was vomiting rubble up! I didn’t even realize I’d swallowed that much till it was spewing out of me with my own bile. I’ll never forget the taste, Stevie. I’ll never forget what it’s like to look down at vomit and see rocks mixed with stomach acid. That ain’t normal, dollbaby. Rocks and dust and and whatever else that was floating in that air was spewing out of me and I thought I was going to choke on my own vomit and that’d be the way I went.

But I stopped, covered in thick debris I kept on all fours, crawling and screaming for Pinky. He was little, ya know? Kind of like you. Fuck, Stevie now that I think about it. If it hadn’t been you…

Pinky was important to me. Never like us, but he could’ve? I guess? I always thought he was cute but he was way too spastic. Giggling up a storm at fart jokes and silly shit and I don’t think he ever noticed when I tried to flirt with him, but maybe? If I hadn’t had you? I guess I’m confessing that I almost found someone else, but then your letter came. And it was like God was literally dropping a note in my lap going, “This is the one you’re meant to love for the rest of your life.” And shit, Stevie, hating me or not- I will love you for the rest of my life. Which at the rate I’m going may not be that long but whatever. That’s a promise I’ve never broken. I will always love you.

I found Pinky, Steve. His little body was crushed under a wall and I could hear him whimpering. Screaming, screaming so loud I think I alerted the enemy, I dove for that little guy. I clawed at the rubble till there was a hole and I saw his arm. I thought I had him. I thought I could save him, Steve. He was so little and his bones so small. And I pulled so hard. I ripped his arm Steve. I ripped his arm literally off his body. Sure, the wall had done most of the severing but I FINISHED it. I. Was. Holding. His. Arm. No body came with it. That little guy, with his smile that used to take my breath away before I met you, his little hands that I used to get so nervous around that I accidently shot my gun at the nurses’ tent (that was a fun investigation). That little guy who now I know was the very fucking reason I fell for you the moment I REALLY got to see you (resent me all you want, think you’re just a replacement for Pinky and know that you NEVER were second. He was second to you the moment your letter said “Dear Sergeant Barnes.”)

He died Stevie. He died because his lungs were so small and his body too frail. The wall’s weight crushed him. I heard him scream out this...fuck...this mangled, high-pitched, mewling kind of scream that got weaker and weaker as his bones cracked beneath the wall and his lungs just collapsed.

I saw my friends die. Too many to go on and on about because this letter is already so long. I held his arm, Steve. I couldn’t let it go. I clutched that arm to me as I moved out of the rubble, stepping on bodies and screaming when I saw faces I recognized. I got attacked then. I’d rather not tell you how many people I killed during the war, but I’ll let you know I killed five men that night.

I finally passed out, thought I was dying. Thought I did die. I woke up in a hospital, Pinky’s arm was gone and Dugan was to my right and Morita was across from me. We shared stories of our own horrors from that night.

Crowds make me nervous because that’s how the ambush started. We’d been in a crowd of people. Women, children, men...just people. It all started with just people. A sunset that was meant to turn into a beautiful clear night instead was murky with dust from rubble and penetrated with the sounds of screams. Loud noises make me jump because each gunshot I heard I thought was going to be the last moment of my life and…

Loud, loud fireworks,they take me back to the night I was clutching Pinky Pinkerton’s arm and the fear I felt when I saw the enemy coming at me. I lost my shit, Steve. I blacked out. I swore up and down I had to fend for my life and you and Peter… you weren’t YOU anymore. You were men with knives and guns speaking a language I didn’t understand. You were gone and I was so far away.

PTSD is real. I ignored it and look where that got me. I’m not trying to make an excuse for what I did. But...I guess maybe I am. I don’t know. Shit, Stevie. Yeah I was pissed at Peter for something but I would have NEVER EVER EVER hurt him in my right mind. I just wanted to explain to you what went through my mind. I got scared. I lost myself. I lost you. I found Pinky’s arm again and I just… lost it. I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to apologize. Nothing I say can change what happened. I’ve been getting help. I’ve been seeing Sam and Brock’s been real supportive.

Shit, I didn’t mean to take up so many pages. When I started I just couldn’t stop. Steve Rogers, I love you with all my heart and all my being. I messed up and I don’t expect to ever be back in your life, but I want you to know that I’ll never love anyone the way I’ve loved you. I don’t want to. You saved my life when I thought I was going to die and in turn, I repaid you with a betrayal I don’t think you can ever forgive. I accept that. I just needed you to know.

Half my heart, all of my soul- that’s what you’ll always be.Take care. I wish only the best for you. Oh, and I got you a gift. I can’t use it, so I figured I’d just drop it off here anyway. If that makes you uncomfortable, just throw it away. It’s yours to do with as you please.

Best,  
Bucky

******  
**


	4. Letter for Chapter 8

Bucky,

First of all, we wanted to start this letter out to you, to tell you how much we all love and care about you. Ever since that day in December, all of us could see how much the guilt weighed on you, and we wanted to tell you that we support and care for you, more than you could ever realize. Please never think that you are not deserving of forgiveness or support in your life, because there is no one on the planet that deserves it more than you do.

 

You’ve been doing so well with your therapy, and all of us are so proud of everything you’ve overcome in these past few months. Never let anyone tell you that you're not strong, or that you’re not trying, because we all know how hard you’ve been working to better yourself. In just a few months, you’ve done what many people have never accomplished in their lives, and for that we’re all so proud of you. When we heard that you were looking forward to just a little bit more help on your journey, we were all so overjoyed! We all agreed that having a service dog in your life would be the best thing for you. Peter, especially, is glad that you took his advice and sought out Sam’s help for such an occasion. We know that you’re going to be so happy once you meet your new partner in crime, and we can’t wait to meet Jack.

We’ve heard good things about this dog already, from Sam himself, and we think that you and Jack are going to be the best of friends through everything in life. Bucky, just remember that in life, it’s okay to ask for help. We’re all here for you, and we always will be. No one hates or judges you for anything that happens from here on out, and we beg you that if you feel you need a shoulder to cry on, you can always come to any one of us for that support. The road to recovery is long, but we’re going to be there with you, every step of the way. We love you, Bucky. Steve loves you the most, and we’re going to support your relationship to the bitter end, no matter what anyone says. Keep your chin up. Life is going to be so sweet.

 

Love, Peggy, Peter, Brock, Sam and Steve

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you could read them better!!  
> Again: The actual fic is here: [Click Me!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4195605/chapters/9477324)


End file.
